


Three Cigarettes In The Ashtray

by me_meron_pan



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Smoking, Valenwind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-23 21:54:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20235772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/me_meron_pan/pseuds/me_meron_pan
Summary: Sweaty hands.Nervous tapping.An unstoppable desire.Who thought breaking a habit was this hard?





	Three Cigarettes In The Ashtray

_...the others down the drain._   
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
Uneasy fingers tapping on that cold tin box.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

An unsteady rhythm.

Fingers wrapping around it. Pulling it out of the pocket.

A sigh.

Pushing it back inside.

Shera had gotten him that cigarette tin one day. Called it the 'Temper Box' with that stupid smile of hers.

Stupid yet ever so charming in its own annoying way.

He leaned back, cracking his neck. Continuing that unsteady rhythm on his thigh.

Arms wrapped around him from behind.

''You're uneasy, darling.''

A hushed whisper. Raspy and deep as raven hair, almost like silk, curled around his shoulder.

''What's the matter?''

He hadn't heard him approach. He never did. No one ever did.

Vincent made no secret out of his Turk skills. Used them well and whenever he could.

''Uneasy? Nah, just tired.'' Cid said, a tremble in his voice.

Leaning back into that embrace. Feeling Vincent's chest rise and fall against him as he pressed back further. Almost like a cat.

''How's that?''

''A certain someone kep' me up all night.'' Cid chuckled, ''Not even Shera's engine is as loud as Barret’'s snoring.''

''You know I'm no fool. I know there is something.''

''Don' worry. It's nothing. I'm just a little annoyed with my crew on a serious lack of sleep.''

Slender, pale fingers reached down across his chest, pinning that uneasy hand on his thigh in place. Smooth skin, always cold. A living dead man. Talking. Walking. Breathing among them.

''The tappin' keeps me awake and far away from fucking losing it.''

This time it was Vincent who chuckled.

''Very well then, but you're a little off-rhythm, darling.''

He gave Cid's hand a gentle squeeze. Strong enough to keep his touch lingering, burning on the other's skin. Leaving him aching for even more.

Cid had grown soft and he hated it.

Still foul-mouthed and strict with his crew, strangely enough it was Vincent that he had warmed up to most.

Until...

Cid tried to remember when it had changed.

When that cool, somewhat strange acquaintance became more. Became this, whatever he was to him.

A lover? Maybe.

Neither of them knew what to call each other.

While Vincent had started calling Cid ''darling'' in that awkward yet charming way of his, Cid had adapted to playfully call the latter ''honey''.

Just playful though. Cid was not one to use pet names for his ____

Too much trouble to remember such things.

Vincent's hand trailed up across Cid's chest, his voice still no more than a whisper in his ears. A rush of excitement rolling over his skin in the shape of goosebumps on that raspy note.

A kiss. Barely one. Another chuckle.

''Well, if you say so.''

Of course Vincent knew.

He always did.

As quick as he approached, the former Turk vanished without leaving any traces other than that pleasant tingle on Cid's skin.

That guy...

  
  


As time passed, they found each other in their arms again. Vincent's head resting on Cid's upper arm, his defined muscles making a perfect bed for raven silk.

Cid's other arm had wrapped around Vincent's side, pulling him closer from behind.

Who would've thought Vincent Valentine was a little spoon?

Certainly no one.

He had made sure his hair were out of the way, pulling them to his front, a golden claw entangled in those locks. Sleeping soundly as Cid's nervous fingers began to twitch again.

He was awake.

God damn. Not at this hour.

A somewhat reluctant look at the clock told him the hour of his demise.

No.

He couldn't.

He had promised so.

...at least to himself.

His hand around Vincent unwrapped, reaching for his nighstant where that old and worn cigarette tin of his rested.

The touch of the cool material against his fingers already felt soothing.

But how more soothing would it feel to actually have a cigarette right now...

Vincent wasn't a big fan of Cid smoking in bed. He had never forbid him or asked to stop, somehow Cid sensed so much and tried to change his habit of having an after-sex cigarette.

Admittedly, sex could be fun even without a cigarette after.

Vincent had showed him. Proved him wrong.

That bastard.

''Why am I even doing this to myself?'' he groaned, eyes immediately darting over to that sleeping silhouette next to him.

Right.

It was a moment of weakness, a rare sight only shared with him. He knew that much. Vincent was too cold and distant to ever let any weakness show.

Cold and distant because he was weak. Too afraid to show any kind affection. Too afraid of losing himself in love or friendship knowing too well he'd lose them one day anyway. Would have to see them die.

A moment of weakness in which he carried the courage to speak his mind for once.

  
  


_ ''I don't want to watch you die. Not so soon.'' _

_ It was not a sob, not yet at least. A strange sound, more growl than an emotional moan. _

_ ''My heart... it aches when I think about it.'' _

_ Never had Cid thought Vincent Valentine would ever speak about his heart. Even less so about his aching heart. _

_ ''I'm not the one to beg...'' he paused, sucked in air as crimson eyes sought out comfort in Cid's ocean blue, ''..but I implore you... One day it will kill you. I don't want you to be the first one out of our group to go.'' _

  
  


His words from back then still lingered in his mouth. Sour. Bitter. So very saddening.

Who would have thought...

Cid casted the tin box aside, wrapping his hands once more around Vincent's barely existing waist.

  
  
  


It has been a week since his last cigarette.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Some Valenwind for the soul.   
Sorry not sorry, FF VII is going to be my hyperfixation for a little longer. At least until the remake's out.   
...the full remake. 
> 
> Valenwind because when I'm not shipping Vincent with myself, I ship him with Cid. (or Lucrecia.) ((..or Cloud)) >:3c


End file.
